


Bolivia

by badwolfchild



Series: Boredom [6]
Category: White Collar
Genre: Family, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff, Found Family, Gen, Humor, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-26 04:07:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13227753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badwolfchild/pseuds/badwolfchild
Summary: Peter’s pacing back and forth in front of the couch, clenching and unclenching his fists. "What is wrong with you? Are you an idiot? No, no question about it, you are an idiot.""You know, I'm pretty sure you're not suppose to call your son an idiot." Neal throws in with a grin.





	Bolivia

Neal adjustes the air in the Taurus and Peter slaps his hand while keeping his eyes on the road the whole time.

 

"Hey, hands on wheel! Personally I like my life while being,  _ alive _ . And I like this car..." Neal starts to look around his seat. "What's this do?"

 

Peter sighs and mentally counts down from ten.  _ 'I cannot kill my CI, I cannot kill my CI, I cannot kill my CI... '  _ Peter mentally chants. "Only ten more minutes and you're El's problem. You two can do your cooking thing, and I can sit on the couch with a cold beer and catch the end of the game."

 

"Thanks for showing you care. No please, let me just spend at least a second with El." Neal says sarcastically as he looks out the window.

 

"Well, sorry if I'm a little eager to hand you off after everything today," He pauses, then adds with a smirk. "Princess."

 

Neal looks away from the window to send a glare at Peter. "Old man." He shoots back.

 

"See, this is why I need to get away from you for an hour."

 

"Actually I find this banter pretty relaxing, although," He presses a button on his seat. "This massage setting..." Peter tries, and fails, to fight a smile as Neal leans back and closes his eyes. Neal jumps slightly as a loud beep sounds throughout the car. Peter laughs and presses a button on the steering wheel when he sees it’s a text from El as Neal sends him a glare, again.

 

_ "Please say a command."  _ An automated female voice says.

 

Neal instantly perks up. "Oh, can I say it?!"

 

"Fine," Peter shakes his head at the kid's over eagerness.

 

Neal grins. "Read message." He says clearly.

 

The car's voice rings out again as it reads the text from El.  _ "Hey hon, sorry I won't be making it to dinner tonight. Something came up last minute at work that can't wait. I know Neal is coming so I left the takeout menus on the table for you boys to look through. I'll be home at nine thirty or ten at the latest. Tell Neal he better still be there. Love you, bye." _

 

Peter pulls up to the house just as the message ends and sighs. "So, I'm stuck with you." The two open their doors and a blast of hot air hits them. 

 

"Gee, try and hold back your excitement." Neal says in a deadpan tone of voice. Right before they are able to start going up the steps to the front door, and Peter with his comeback, they are stopped by a thick southern accent belonging to an older lady.

 

"Yer Peter right?" Peter stops and closes his eyes, then turns around with a forced smile.

 

"That's right, Mrs..." Peter pauses as he tries to remember her name. She had just moved in a couple weeks ago, from Texas if he remembers correctly.

 

"Applebee," She fills in the blank for him.

 

"Mrs. Applebee, that's right. And how are you adjusting to New York?" Neal sighs and starts to tone out the conversation. Normally he would jump right in and introduce himself, but right now he’s just too hot to care. He shifts his focus back when he notices that the conversation is coming to an end.

 

"Now, I talked to Elizabeth about this over lunch 'while go an' I was wonderin' if you two an' yer son here were goin' to make it to the lil' party I'm throwin' on the 4th."

 

Peter starts to correct her. "Neal? He-"

 

Neal grins like a kid in a candy store and throws his arm around Peter's shoulder. Time for some good old fashion payback. "-Would love to come. We got the 4th off work, right Dad?"

 

Peter grips the back of Neal's neck, hard. "That's right, we do don't we." Unfortunately they do have the 4th off.

 

"Well, ain't that swell, I'll call y'all when I have the time all finalized. Have a great rest of yer day." She waves and goes on her way.

 

"You, too." Peter waves back with his free hand, the other still gripping Neal's neck. He keeps his hold on his pseudo-son until they get inside and lightly tosses him on the couch, a trail of ows coming from Neal the whole time.

 

Now free and on the couch, Neal's hand flies to his abused neck. "Ever heard of cutting your nails? You almost broke the skin."

 

Peter’s pacing back and forth in front of the couch, clenching and unclenching his fists. "What is wrong with you? Are you an idiot? No, no question about it, you  _ are  _ an idiot."

 

"You know, I'm pretty sure you're not suppose to call your son an idiot." Neal throws in with a grin.

 

Peter stops and points at Neal. "Shut it, you. No more talking, zilp, zich, nadda." He starts pacing again and begins to mutter under his breath, "Why would she even  _ think  _ you are my son? And what possessed you to go along with it in the first place? Oh wait, that's right,  _ because you're an idiot! _ " He directs the last part at Neal.

 

Neal raises his hand, but stays silent. " _ What!? _ " Peter snaps.

 

"Permission to speak?"

 

Peter just growls in reply.

 

Neal ignores that and keeps on talking. "It's all your fault really."

 

Peter crosses his arms and raises an eyebrow. "Oh really now, enlighten me how this is in anyway  _ my  _ fault."  

 

"Because you made me redo my work." Neal simply explains.

 

Peter lets out a wry laugh. "Oh, this explanation will be good."

 

"Well, if you would have just accepted my work with the drawing on it and not tried to be funny by putting it on the fridge, she never would have seen the drawing when she was over for lunch with El and jumped to that conclusion."

 

Peter is speechless. Neal has completely backed him into a metaphorical corner and he can't think of a way out. "Just, go change out of that suit before you die of heat stroke while I go order a pizza." He gives up.

 

"Oh, can you make it half pineapple?"

 

"Go!" He points at the stairs and the kid scurries up. Shaking his head, he looks down at Satchmo who's been next to him the whole time. He looks up at Peter and tilts his head, then gives a small bark. Peter rubs Satch's head with a smile. "I know bud, I know."

 

*line break*

 

Neal comes back down the stairs in his Quantico sweats to find Peter, changed into a t-shirt and light sweats, on the couch nursing a beer and watching the Yankees. Making his presence known, he comments on the game. "Well, aren't the Yankees lucky to be playing in rainy Seattle Washington."

 

"Tell that to the people in Seattle who are wearing sweaters when it's late June. Here." Peter hands Neal a beer as the other sits down on the other side of the couch.

 

"Thanks." They both sit in silence except for the game and Neal's occasional sigh. Halfway through his beer Neal starts to pick at the label on the bottle and sighs again for the fourth time in the last twenty minutes. The doorbell rings and Neal leaps up from the couch, thankful for the distraction. "Pizza's here!" 

 

Answering the door, he pays for the pizza and gives the man a tip. Back in the living room, he puts the pizza box on the coffee table and plops back down on the couch. He opens the box and grins. "Yes!" He grabs a slice of pineapple and takes a big bite. After he swallows, he turns to Peter. "So, are you going to tell El about the party when she gets home?"

 

Peter takes a sip of beer. "You mean the way you told her we're going and that you're our son? No, that's all on you."

 

Neal shrugs. "Okay, she'll just think it's funny."

 

Peter grabs a slice of pizza that has just about every type of meat they have on it. " _ Or  _ she'll be insulted that she can be old enough to have an adult son, which she isn’t." Peter points out.

 

"So, we'll just say that I'm your son and that you were a wild nineteen-year-old."

 

Peter does some quick mental math. "Last I checked, and I'm pretty good at math, I wasn't nineteen until ‘81, making you four years younger than what your file says."

 

"What movies do you have?" Neal jumps off the couch and heads to the DVDs. "You have  _ Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid _ ? We should watch it!" Peter catches the obvious deflection, but lets it go for now. As the movie starts, Neal speaks up again. "Want to go rogue? We can be like Butch and Sundance."

 

"You hate guns." Peter points out.

 

"We can go to Bolivia. El can go with us, plus I can speak Spanish, I'll have to teach you though."

 

Peter scoffs. "Hey, I can speak Spanish. Took all four years of it in high school."

 

Neal smirks. "But that was like a hundred years ago."

 

Peter clips him over the back of the head. "Just watch the movie."

 

*line break*

 

About halfway through the movie the duo are both full, having ate most of the pizza, and Neal yawns. He starts to lean against Peter and Peter in turn puts his arm across the kid to hold him up. 

 

He looks down to see Neal's eyes start to close. "Tired?" He asks softly.

 

Neal brings his legs up on the couch and grips Peter's arm. "No." He replies, but a yawn halfway through his speech betrays him. "Maybe a little bit." He amends.

 

Peter puts his feet up on the coffee table and shifts. "Just a little bit, huh?" Not getting a response he looks down to see Neal dead to the world. Looking up, he sees Satchmo watching, his attention on them since they started talking. "Just tired enough though, don't you think Satch?" The dog just puts his head down and closes his eyes. Peter takes this as his cue to rest his eyes too, but just for a minute.

 

*line break*

 

At nine forty five, El unlocks the door and walks in to find the title screen of what looks to be  _ Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid  _ running on a loop. She looks to the couch and finds the two movie watchers fast asleep. Awing, she pulls out her phone real quick and snaps a picture. She then sighs when she sees that they left the pizza out on the coffee table.

 

Satch opens his eyes and yawns. Seeing his mommy, he gets up and trots over to her. Noticing the dog, she whispers to him. "Hey, boy, these two sure made a mess, didn't they?" She cleans up and puts the leftovers in the fridge. Walking back out, she sees Peter opening his eyes and smile when he spots her.

 

"Hey, Hon," He whispers. "I meant to clean that up, but I fell asleep."

 

"It's alright," She leans down to give him a quick kiss. "Plus, it looks to me like you have your hands full, or arm in this case." She sits down in the arm chair across from the couch and turns the TV off. Peter looks down with a smile to see Neal still asleep and gripping his arm. "Is it safe to assume that you two are on friendly terms again?"

 

Peter sighs and looks back up at El. "In a way," El gives a confused look and Peter explains. "You know Mrs. Applebee?"

 

"Yes, and that reminds me, I have to call her tomorrow to say that we can make to that that party she mentioned a couple weeks ago for the 4th."

 

"Well, this one took the initiative and said we can go already."

 

El is still confused. "What's so bad about that? I know you don't like neighborhood parties, but it would be rude not to go."

 

"It's not that he said we can go, it's the way he said it. She asked if us and  _ our son  _ can go, meaning Neal. He then jumped in and started calling me Dad in front of her."

 

El covers her mouth and snorts. Peter glares at her. "You're laughing aren't you. He said you would laugh."

 

"I'm sorry, honey, it's just," She giggles again. "It is pretty ironic that she thought that."

 

Peter smiles a little despite the glare he still has. "Yeah, I guess so. But he's still in trouble."

 

Neal yawns. "Who's still in trouble?" He asks, his right hand going up to rub sleep out of his eye while the other keeps its grip on Peter's wrist.

 

"Welcome back to the world of the living." Peter comments.

 

"Peter is, because he has his feet up on the coffee table." El smirks.

 

"Wha’? But-"

 

Neal laughs and closes his eyes again.

 

"Hey, come on, buddy, stay awake. There is no way I am carrying you up those stairs." Peter lightly shakes him awake. Neal turns into Peter's shoulder and mutters, "Bu' I don' wanna Da'..."

 

Peter sighs and looks to El for help, but she’s grinning like it’s Christmas.

 

"I'm going to be sleeping on the couch, aren't I." Peter states.

 

"Look on the bright side, it's probably about ten degrees cooler down here. I think I'll get a sleeping bag and sleep down here too."

 

"Thanks." El gives him another kiss, but he keeps pouting. She then ruffles Neal's hair. "Night sweetie."

 

"Nigh' momma..." El awes, then heads upstairs.

 

Peter squints at him. "Bet you're proud of yourself, huh?"

 

Neal shifts more onto his chest. "Yes, I am..."

 

Peter smiles and rests his chin on the other’s head.


End file.
